A Single White Rose
by LadyRavena
Summary: Read and Review: A followup to Surcease of Sorrow, and how remembers ... Part 2 of the Lost Lenore series
1. Default Chapter

Author's note: READ ME!!!!!

********This story does not make sense if you have not read part one. Part 1: Surcease of Sorrow under the lady_ravena was written separately and this story is a sequel to it, and frankly does not stand alone that well. ***********

I don't own Severus Snape and all his buddies, and I don't own the poem "The raven" by Mr. Poe that's here either. Lenore, however, is MINE!!!!! You like her, you ask to use her, she won't mind. Obiwanben@eudoramail.com 

I invented the ritual in this story because I didn't want to offend anyone if I got an actual ritual wrong. Please let me know if you have any rituals that would be appropriate in this setting, Wiccan or not. Blessed be, and thank you.

Thanks to those who review, it is greatly appreciated. Even if the review is "good, bye" type, I WANT MORE OF THEM!!!

A Single White Rose


	2. 2

A Single White Rose

The night was an inky dark one, lit only by the full moon, for no stars shone. It was fitting, Albus Dumbledore thought, that even the heavens seemed to mourn the passing of so many years.

The students had noticed that anything seemed to set Severus Snape into a cold fury. Moreover, today Potions had been canceled, the lab hall completely blocked to all students. The professor had not come to breakfast, lunch (which was not unusual), or dinner (which was). Even a summoning through the internal Floo network produced nothing.

Albus knew why he had shut out the world on this day. Over 20 years had passed since Lenore Snape, eldest of the family, had passed away. Her death had been a senseless one, where in truth no blame could be cast. The truth of her attack was kept secret, for it would hurt the family reputation for it to be widely know of such a crime. Family came first, lives second.

Lenore Snape had been mauled by a werewolf, dancing in her parent's garden late one moonlit night. She was wearing her wedding gown, in anticipation of the event in a month's time. She had been an easy and unresistible target for the animal.

Of coarse, it had been destroyed, but too late for lost Lenore.

*****

Now there was only one Snape left. Severus' parents had long since been killed and as yet there was no special someone in the potion master's life. The duty of remembering the dead fell to him to perform. 

After removing the wizard's lock on the door, Albus stepped quietly inside. He stopped instantly, his breath caught at the scene before him.


	3. 3

Author's Note: Try to read this with As Baile by Enya (A Christmas Album) in the background.

The room was lit with black candles around the walls, candles as wide around as he was, and, he knew, at one point as tall. Each flame was purest white, no flickering to be seen. The light, however, danced on the walls as if there was. 

The desks had been totally removed, leaving a great deal of empty space. In the center of the room a circle of white candles had been lit at the five points of the pentagram that glowed with white flames into the floor. 

The air was drifting a scent of roses throughout, mixing with the smell of wax. The incense was matched by the most haunting music the heart could hear, music that evoked tears in all who listened to it, even those who did not mourn.

All this Dumbledore saw later. His attention remained on the figure in the center of the pentagram, knelling on the floor, lost in memories or prayers he did not know. Severus Snape's features were gaunt, pale and tearstained.

Dumbledore knelt before the other, murmuring to the air the standard prayer of loss and mourning. Before he stood, he placed a single white rose at the uppermost point, his offering to her memory. Standing, he retraced his steps back to the door, closing it quietly behind him and resetting the locks.

He did not know what he had expected, but that ceremony, centuries old, was not it.


	4. 4

Severus knew that the Headmaster had been there and had left something. The way the energies around him moved had been subtly changed, altered ever so slightly. At first, he knew anger at the disruption.

Upon opening his eyes, his anger melted when he saw the offering. He slowly reached for it, his hand trembling slightly.

Red roses for love, yellow for sorrow. Her funeral had been covered in both colors, well wishers insulting her memory by their ignorance; all save one had been wrong.

It was Albus Dumbledore, favorite teacher, who had honored Lenore with a single white rose, a symbol of peace and purity. That leaving such a bloom in the olden days would have meant two funerals now was met with whispers and murmurs of discord.

And the respect of one who did not forget. Respect enough to pull one soul from the darkness before it, for lost Lenore . . .

….and perhaps for himself as well.

Perhaps.

***** 

Thank you for all those who review, I try to answer any questions you have if you leave an email. 

THANK YOU, Master Yoda for the editing and pointing out that half of it didn't totally make sense. *BIG Hug* 


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